


by freedom's holy light

by brophigenia



Category: Little House on the Prairie - Laura Ingalls Wilder
Genre: Americana, F/M, Pining, just a little pre-valentine's treat to all my frontier babes out there, little town on the prairie, the fourth of july race
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-21
Updated: 2021-01-21
Packaged: 2021-03-13 02:41:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28896030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brophigenia/pseuds/brophigenia
Summary: He’d spoken once to her- she was the one from the Slough, appearing from the wild grasses like a mirage with a thresher section held tight in her hands, the little one clutching her elbow tight.(AKA, Almanzo is a hopeless horse boy about to win the Fourth of July race.)
Relationships: Almanzo Wilder/Laura Ingalls Wilder
Comments: 2
Kudos: 17





	by freedom's holy light

**Author's Note:**

> What do I do when I'm stressed? Reread the Little House books, duh. I'm a farmgirl, what the fuck else am I supposed to do?

_ i know you’ve sat alone  _

_ too many nights, waiting for me. _

_ *** _

The girl was short- shorter than her father, Mr. Ingalls, though he was a tall thin sort of man who stood at the same height as any man in town, nearly enough. Almanzo did not know her name- he knew Ingalls had four daughters, and knew the eldest was stricken blind years ago. This one must be the next-oldest, and even in the shade of her prim bonnet he could tell she had a sun-darkened face, small square hands against her slim calico skirts that clenched when she watched Prince and Lady, ready to race.

He’d spoken once to her- she was the one from the Slough, appearing from the wild grasses like a mirage with a thresher section held tight in her hands, the little one clutching her elbow tight. She’d been- not  _ bold,  _ but something approaching it. Unafraid of him and Royal, though there was no one else around to act as a buffer between them. Though she’d been obviously lost, leading her sister on an ill-advised shortcut. 

Stupidly, she’d reminded him then of one of Lady’s colts; small and brown-skinned and willful, with the same dark liquid eyes. Royal would laugh uproariously at him if he’d ever spoken the notion aloud, but it wasn’t like  _ that.  _

Almanzo was a horse man, more than he was a people man. He knew horses. He knew animals. He knew people were little more than animals in fancy clothes. 

Somehow, this girl had struck him as being more honest than your average person. More like him, and like an animal- plainspoken, with no use for artifice. 

Her lips moved-  _ win, please, win,  _ he could see her mouthing, though she was not speaking to him. She was speaking to Prince and Lady, hitched to his brother’s clumsy peddlers’ cart.

As if they could hear her, they flicked their ears in her direction. Almanzo imagined, nonsensically, her sitting right next to him on this high seat, her body lending him strength pressed along his side, knee-to-knee and hip-to-hip. Those small brown hands on his forearm, his back, fisting in her pretty starched skirts.

Indecent thoughts, for sure, but Almanzo’s blood was up and he was rabid with it, more an animal now than he had ever allowed himself to be. Waiting for the opening shot. 

He grinned once, sidelong, towards the direction of Ingalls and his daughters, leaning forward, and spoke low to Prince and Lady. 

“Let’s give ‘em a show.” 

The opening shot rang out.  _ BOOM.  _

Almanzo left himself behind, in the dust cloud that rose up and swallowed Ingalls’ pretty daughter in his tracks.

_ *** _

_ standing there by my side,  _

_ when the fighting is done.  _

**Author's Note:**

> follow me @ brophigenia.tumblr.com


End file.
